


Bittersweet

by the_fifth_marauder101



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Angst, Collab, Dobby is gender-fluid, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco is a dork, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, IM SORRRY, Lonely Draco Malfoy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Moodboards, Narcissa and Lucius Divorce, Nerd Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Panic Attacks, Pining Draco Malfoy, Sad Draco Malfoy, Smart Draco Malfoy, and a fashion designer, car crash, draco whump, he goes through so much, my poor baby, time jumps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:56:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19007170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fifth_marauder101/pseuds/the_fifth_marauder101
Summary: Please say no, please please say no, come on Harry please-“Yeah, you’re right-”Draco dropped the box with a bang and ran.~~~~PART 2 COMING SOON





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Apologies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5621650) by [JosephineStone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone). 



> This is a collab with @shameless-bisexual Jess on tumblr! She did the mood-boards and I did the writing. I had so much fun working with her and I've been working on this story since November and I love how it turned out so let me know what y'all think!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~Vixen

 

[Moodboard 1](https://drive.google.com/file/d/13s_FSSiEXMt_lpscgNVBzPZMNTilMs6V/view?usp=sharing) 

 

* * *

 

_~*@*~_

 

_“I took a chance, I took a shot_

_And you may think I’m bullet-proof, but I’m not. You took a swing, I took it hard.”_

_― Taylor Swift_

 

_~*@*~_

**_5 years ago_ **

**_Middle school- sixth grade, mid-year_ **

**_Age 11_ **

 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

 

Draco looks up from where he was sprawled out on the ground at the boy who bumped into him as he was turning the corner. The rather small eleven-year-old held out a hand to help him up. Eyeing the hand in masked distrust- no one at the school even remotely knew Draco existed let alone had ever been kind to him- the blond timidly let the hand ease him up. He looked down to see messy raven locks and bulky round black glasses gazing back at him.

 

“No worries,” Draco said, slowly and quietly so he wouldn’t stutter like the social recluse he was. Upon looking closer, Draco blurted out,

 

“Are you new here?” The boy chuckled, raising a hand to ruffle his hair. As he did so, a portion of his bangs moved and Draco’s eyes were drawn to a small lightning bolt shaped scar right above his left eyebrow.   

 

“Yeah I am, I’m Harry, Harry Potter,” The boy, Harry, stuck out his hand. Draco shifted backward a bit in shock but shook the hand as he saw the dark eyebrows scrunch up a bit in confusion.

 

“I’m Draco.”

~*@*~

 

_“Did I really want to stay on this road longer, knowing it was only going to end in devastation?”_

_― Becca Fitzpatrick, Crescendo_

 

~*@*~

 

Draco’s father was a Politician, and not really well liked amongst those of which he saw as ‘lower class’, which was practically _everyone_. Draco always assumed that was the reason he was always picked last for everything, why no one ever sat next to him willingly, why he had no friends. But when Draco went to high school, he began to wonder if it was him.

 

It’s not like Draco was particularly mean or rude, on the contrary he was shy, quiet, brainy. He would classify himself as a dork, really. His nanny, Dobby, had always called him sweet and caring. They had been one of his primary guardians growing up. His father almost never home, traveling for ‘work’ and his mother always out socializing and doing God only knows what.

 

Draco remembers back when he used to try and make friends. He remembered one girl he met in his last year of primary school, a bushy-haired genius named Hermione. They had met in the library and were partners for an English project once. She had been the only person to come to his house, and he thought they had gotten along quite well. He liked her, she was smart and a wonderful person to listen to.  
  
But the weekend after the project, Draco went to sit with Hermione at lunch and she was surrounded by people, when he moved toward an open spot at the table, one of the students had scooted into the seat. He took the hint and when to sit at his usual spot at the peanut free table. Alone.

 

He had tried to find Hermione alone, just to talk. Just so he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. But each time, she had someone, or was busy, or simply turned away.

 

And Draco got the hint.

When Harry shook his hand, he felt that little spark flare up once again. But he stomped it out immediately. Why would he stay, he’d probably never see Harry again. And it was for the best, after all.

 

Draco was unlovable.

~*@*~

 

_“Hearts are breakable," Isabelle said. "And I think even when you heal, you're never what you were before".”_

_― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels_

 

~*@*~

**_High School- Senior year- first week of school_ **

**_-Age 20-_ **

 

Harry had sat next to Draco. In chemistry class. He just walked in and placed his bag on the table where Draco sat. The table in the corner, away from the door and in the front row, it was the table near the professor's desk was, and none of the other students quite liked Professor Snape, but he was Draco’s favorite teacher.

 

It had nothing to do with the fact that Snape had acknowledged Draco at least **twice** _(in the same week!)_ in the hallways out of class. It had nothing to do with the fact that Professor Snape was the only teacher that gave Draco more than a glance, or actually marked his papers with what mistakes he made like all the other kids so he could actually make his papers better instead of having to go home and teach it all to himself again.

 

It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that sitting at that table would make him look like he _chose_ to have no one sitting next to him, and it definitely wasn’t that _he longed for human companionship-_

 

Nope, it was only because he liked Professor Snape’s sense of humor.

 

Draco hadn’t talked to Harry in years. Not since he was eleven and naive enough to walk the same path he had walked when he was _nine_.

 

_Not since he had overheard Harry in that hallway-_

 

“Hey,” Draco flinched and raised his head just a bit so that his hair covered his eyes. He cocked his head a bit to the side, almost as if he was a puppy. It was a tactic he used with adults to get him out of conversations he didn’t want to get into.

 

He was not depressed, _thank you very much,_ Miss. **_Umbridge_**. How he loathed the woman his mother had once worriedly hired as his therapist. She was a toad who tried to steal Barbies’ wardrobe.

 

“It’s been a while, what’s been- How are you… ?” Harry asked, nervously. Draco stared at him, expression unreadable. This had to be a prank or something. A dare given to Harry by that Weasley or something. ‘ _Go and talk to Malfoy, see if the idiot is even alive. At this point, I bet he’s just a terrible figment of everyone’s imagination.’_ Just because he never talks, doesn’t mean he doesn't know how to, or that he’s deaf and blind. It’s not like he’s unaware of what people think of him. How could he have been if that’s the only thing he knows anymore. The only thing he’s completely sure of after what happened between with his parents.

 

Draco looked back to see Harry still staring at him, blushing profoundly with his head down, and shoulders tense. Draco couldn’t see his eyes but knew he wouldn’t like to. How could he after he saw the pure hatred in them when Harry had last gazed his way.

 

When Harry had wanted to…

 

_“Yeah, you’re right…”_

 

That memory had been branded in his mind forever.  

 

Draco sighed and spoke for the first time since his parents had split and his mother had passed.

 

“Listen, you don’t have to sit or speak with me. You can go and tell all your friends that you did it. Just please leave,” Draco whispered, his voice soft like freshly fallen powdery snow. He had turned away from Potter- _he opted to no longer call the boy by his first name, it hurt far too much_ \- and opened his novel. He knew that the raven-haired boy got the hint. When Draco opened a book, he no longer engaged in what was going on around him. It was a sign to whoever was talking to him that the conversation was deemed over.

 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry sigh and pick up his bag. Harry walked off to another table but Draco saw it.

 

The small shake of Harry’s head to someone in the room.

 

Draco had been right.

 

He didn’t think there was anything left in himself to break a little more. _Cut a little more, bleed a little more._

 

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

~*@*~

 

_“Saying his name stabbed my heart, like someone had ripped through my carefully stitched up world and exposed the infected, pulsing red tissue that I thought was healing. ”_

_― Colleen Houck_

 

~*@*~

 

When Draco was in his Freshman year, he had been, technically, an orphan. His mother had died the summer before, in a car crash. Unfortunately, Draco was in the very same car.

 

He still had nightmares about it.

 

Lucius and Narcissa had divorced when Draco was in middle school, when he was just 13. Lucius moved to the states and made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with the two former Malfoys.

 

Dobby had gone to college the very next year after the divorce. They were aspiring to be a fashion designer, and Draco was very proud that they had gotten into college. They two sent letters until Draco went to high school. Then the letters had stopped. Because he had been forgotten, again.

 

Seeing a pattern here?

 

The days turned to grey once more, just like the day that he had heard the words that unmasked his first friend.  The world turning like the sky would right before it was about to rain. Colours still there but dulled, nothing really popping out.  

 

When Draco was younger, he had believed he was cursed. He remembered a story he had written about a boy who was cursed to be forever alone. Only in that story, the boy and found his prince and lived a happily ever after. Draco knew he could _never_ have one of those. Not in his life.

 

It’s funny, he remembered basing the prince off Har-

 

_No, stop that._

 

He can’t be happy with other people. So he’ll have to not think about it, and endure. Just like he’s always done.

 

Because there was nothing anyone could do.

 

Not even Him.

~*@*~

 

_“Everybody said, "Follow your heart". I did, it got broken”_

_― Mysterious Affair At Styles (Hercule Poirot, #1)_

 

~*@*~

 

Sometimes, Draco mused, he missed Harry. He missed his long rambles about football, and how studies were boring. He missed the free periods in the library where they would get lost in the bookshelves, and Draco could talk with ease, with the comfort of books and his only friend at his side.

 

It all came to a head as the year ended.

 

Draco didn’t know what he would do when summer came. They hadn’t ever talked outside of school- mainly because Draco never saw Harry outside of school- so he opted to give him their house phone number. Maybe then they could talk, and plan to meet up.

 

When he waved goodbye to Harry, he missed the way Harry’s guardian - his godfather- had looked at Draco, but Draco remembered it later. When he would go over the memory in his mind over and over again as he cried himself to sleep the years following.

 

Draco had let his walls fall around Harry, and he had naively let the git worm his way into the blond’s fragile heart. He had hoped, wished, _prayed_ that it would be worth it. That Harry _did_ care, he tricked himself into thinking Harry was his friend.

 

It was all for naught.

 

Harry had never called. Draco never even got Harry's number -too excited with his own brilliant plan- to ask. But Harry hadn’t offered it either.

 

And the worst part?

 

Harry had _promised_.

 

Draco should have remembered that all promises had always been broken.

 

~*@*~

 

_“Was it hard?" I ask._

_Letting go?"_

 

_Not as hard as holding on to something that wasn't real.”_

_― Lisa Schroeder_

 

~*@*~

 

**_Middle school- 7th Grade_ **

**_Age 12_ **

 

“-all know what he’s like! We all want him gone, and I **know** you do too!” _Was that Ron Weasley?_ Draco stopped in his tracks. He had his arms around Hermione’s birthday present, he had made it himself. It was a jewelry box with little books painted on it. Inside was a gift card for Barnes & Noble and a small charm bracelet that was Percy Jackson themed. Hermione wasn’t having a birthday party, so he made her a present anyway, as he did for all of Harry’s friends.  


When they came back from summer, Harry was surrounded by many friends.

 

Kids like Neville Longbottom, the Weasleys, _Hermione_ , those Patil Twins, and Lavender Brown. Zacharias Smith, and Anthony Goldstein. Cho Chang and Luna Lovegood, _who he has shared a class with and wanted to be friends with but he never seemed to find her after classes, it’s not as though he doesn’t know how to take a hint._

 

They seemed to live near each other, and their parents were great friends as well. He had Harry’s late birthday present in hand-since they hadn’t met up over the break- and tapped his shoulder, giving it to him when they had a free period.

 

Harry had given him a small smile and introduced him to his friends.

 

“-we can’t just kick him out! That’s not nice, he hasn’t done anything wrong!” That was Harry, Draco realized, snapping back to reality.

 

“Yes, we can Harry! He’s a _Malfoy_ , and he can’t be trusted. We all want him gone! He’s so annoying and clingy. We can all see how much you don’t like him hogging you, Harry. It’s ok if you don’t want him around. It doesn’t make you a bad person. You can say no.” Draco squeezes his eyes shut and leaned a bit closer. His breathing became labored, and he clutched his arms tighter around the box.

 

 _Please say no, please_ **_please_ ** _say no, come on Harry please-_

 

“Yeah, you’re right-”

 

Draco dropped the box with a _bang_ and ran.

~*@*~

 

_“Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt empty and hollow and aching.”_

_― Gabriel García Márquez_

 

~*@*~

 

**_8th Grade- Graduation_ **

**_Age 14_ **

 

“Draco Malfoy- A honors, Principal's Award” There was a small round of clapping as Draco shyly stood up and accepted the certificate, posing for a brief picture. His eyes found those of his mother’s and he smiled brightly. The ones he only did around her.

 

As his eyes swept across the room, he landed on a mess of raven hair. Harry was scowling at the floor and Draco peered at him in curiosity and concern. When Harry lifted his gaze and Draco’s silver eyes searched the emerald ones. His heart stopped at what he saw in them.

 

Pure **hatred**.

 

Thank Hades and Poseidon that Draco was the last student. _(Best for last they say)_

~*@*~

 

_“I don't think anyone can give you advice when you've got a broken heart.”_

_― Britney Spears_

 

~*@*~

  


**_High school- Senior year-_ **

**_2 days after the chemistry class_ **

 

Harry Potter keeps on following him.

 

He’s been since the very beginning of the year.

 

At first, Draco didn’t know what to think. He really didn’t think much of it, so Harry was in the lunch line at the same time as him, or at the library every day that he was, big deal.

 

It was only once he thought over it after **that** chemistry class a couple of days ago, that he realized it really could not be a coincidence.

 

Harry was following him around, almost like a lost puppy that’s found a human with a biscuit in their pocket. Only Draco had no idea what the ‘biscuit’ Harry wanted was.

 

Never did Draco think that _he_ was the ‘biscuit’ Harry wanted.

 

 _-_ .*. _-_

 

_“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”_

_― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly,_

 

-.*.-

 

“Hey Draco,” Draco looked up from his book, already a bit peeved with this person for interrupting his reading. Never tickle a sleeping dragon, they say, or a reading one. Both will end in a way most would find unpleasant.

 

Eyebrows scrunched together, he tilts his head in confusion as he looks behind him to see if there was anyone she was talking to other than him. A girl stood in front of him, a soft smile on her brown skin with cool, jewel undertones. But what makes him remember her is the bushy dark brown curls that float around her as she stands in front of him. His mask falls back down in a blink.

 

Hermione Granger.

 

_Oh no…_

 

“C-Can I help you?” Draco whispers, playing it off as if he doesn’t recognize her. Why are all these people seeing him all of a sudden?

 

For years, Draco had been invisible, never acknowledged. Why is it that now; when he’s finally come to terms with his isolation; when he’s able to get used to crying himself to sleep at night, alone with only the sound of artificial rain from his speakers filling his silent apartment; when he’s finally used to fending for himself; when he’s finally accepted he’s never going to be whole, why is it now, that people are seeing him? People who he had tried to get the attention of; people he let in; people who he thought he could trust; people who he thought would let him _hope_ -

 

People who then broke him; left him crying, another piece cracked, shattered, irreplaceable. They left him, and now they’re coming back?

 

_Do they think he’s really that naive?_

 

He does the ducking and hiding tactic again, watching as Hermione's hopeful eyes which were lit up only moments ago, dimed with something akin to sadness. But, he knows people can be brilliant actors.

 

Yes, he knows that’s hypocritical of him…

 

...shut up.

 

“I- um… W-What book are you reading?” She blurts out, and Draco barely manages to resist the urge to raise an eyebrow. He simply raises the book higher so she can read the front, effectively making the book cover his face as well.

 

_Go away, please just leave me alone…_

 

“Oh, that’s such an interesting topic! Do you know where I could find books on that in here?” Face still hidden behind his book, Draco rolls his eyes. Hermione was so bad at creating fake conversations, _he would know._

 

Draco points to the call number on the spine of his book. It is a pretty familiar topic, one even the most unscholarly of students would know. It was just on Greek Gods, he’s always had a fascination for the ancient times. Probably because it was easier to get lost in a world that wasn’t his own.

 

Hermione slowly writes down the call number, after making a show of not having a paper or pen. It’s almost as if she wants to draw this out. How easy it would be to just reach out and grasp the chance. To just relieve her of her struggles, let her talk with him. It’s obvious that she wants to, the reason why is beyond him.

 

But he can’t, he can’t have his heart broken again. He can’t let himself hope anymore. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself back together again.

 

Everyone he lets in leaves.

  
Pansy, his preschool friend, had moved. Blaise, the one exchange student that had come from Italy during 8th grade, had only been near him because he knew Italian -what else do you think Draco does with his time-. Once Blaise had learned enough English, he too left.

 

Hermione had left, Harry had left, his father, his mother, even Dobby.

 

All of them had left.

 

Sometimes he wonders if he should just leave too.

  


_~*~_

 

_“Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't.”_

_― Stephen King, Hearts in Atlantis_

 

_~*~_

 

It’s not that he’s suicidal, it’s more that he’s self-aware. He doesn’t want to die, but it’s not as if he has a reason to be alive. He sometimes feels he lives in a state of non-existence. Like he’s not living but still there. Not dead, but doomed to roam the Earth without being acknowledged.

 

He doesn’t fear Death, it seems more like a friend that he knows he will meet one day. But he doesn’t know what day, nor does he know when or how he feels about it. He’s come to terms with his fate.

 

His plan was to leave this town and go abroad, possibly to France? His mother had _-used to-_ have connections there.

 

But why is everything changing all of a sudden?

 

_~*~_

 

_“Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible.”_

_― Lisa Kleypas, Sugar Daddy_

 

_~*~_

 

“- _again_?” A voice says. Draco stops still. Suddenly he’s taken back to 7th grade.

 

 _We all want him_ **_gone!_ **

 

He’s once again faced with a choice. Just around the corner the voice sighs, Draco presses himself against the wall practically holding his breath.

 

He knows he should move. He should run away, to not be hurt like he had been before. To not eavesdrop as it’s just plain rude, and his mother was mostly likely wincing from above. He knows he shouldn’t stay where he is, back against the wall, knuckles clenched till they’re stark white as they grip the book he has trapped against his chest, _but…_

 

But he can’t help it, the masochist in him winning out. The small part of him that wants answers, the one who always asks _why._

 

He stays, daring to catch every word, challenging destiny, and mocking fate.

 

What he hears rocks him to his very core.

 

And his little flame of hope that had been long extinguished lit up one again.

 

_~*~_

 

_“Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime.”_

_― Mineko Iwasaki_

 

_~*~_

 

When Draco was three he had made a friend with a small little garden snake. She was very sweet and affectionate, for a snake. He found her tangled in his mother’s rose bush, a hawk circling above the area. He rescued her, and being as smart as she was, she didn’t attack him.

 

When his father found out, saying he was angry would be an understatement. He was positively _livid_. Draco had ran from the room with his friend wrapped around his wrist, rushing to leave her in the clutches of Mother Nature, lest she meet a terrible fate.

 

Upon releasing little Serena, Draco knew he would have to face punishment. It was not the first time his father had used his cane on him, but the silver digging into his own skin was worth the knowledge that his Serena would live for another day, at the very least.

 

The next day his father had came home with chocolates and apologies and Draco had embraced him and accepted his apologies. Of course Draco held that little silver memory close amidst all the dulled and rusted ones. That _had_ been the last time his father had even gotten physical with him again, _but aren’t mental scars just as worse?_

 

Yet trust is like a mirror, even when they’ve apologized you can still see the cracks in that person’s reflection.

 

_~*~_

 

_“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it...”_

_― Nicholas Sparks, At First Sight_

 

_~*~_

  


_“Pardon?”_

 

Draco refused to believe the man in front of him, _Gods, when had Harry grown up?_

 

Draco refused to believe the words coming out of raven haired man in front of him. Refused to believe Harry had even wanted to talk with him, let alone believe the explanation that was given to him.

 

He was sitting on the floor of the gent’s bathroom, having a panic attack again. This day kept surprising him, first with opening his locker to see flowers _-white roses,_ _his absolute favorite_ _-_ in his lockers, along with a small package, sent him into a panic. This were all to similar to his father’s apologies. Why would someone send him this, why was this year not making any sense? He just wants to end High School so he can leave this area all together. So he can just leave and got study abroad like he had always planned to. There were no ties to him in his hometown after all.

 

But he got his answer in the form of a frantically apologizing Harry Potter.

 

“Please Draco, please believe me. I’m sorry, it was all a misunderstanding!”

 

“But y-you, and you said- Weasley- and me, and and-”

 

“None of it Draco! You didn’t hear everything, Ron was just being a jealous prick. I swear, I would never have left you! You were my first friend, my one link that made me want to stay here after moving from place to place for so so long. Please give me another chance. Please, please, please-” Harry’s bright eyes glistened with tears as he held Draco close to his chest, just as he had when he followed the blond into the restroom 15 minutes ago. Although it had felt like hours.

 

Harry whispering soft nothings into Draco’s ears trying to bring the silver-eyed man down from his panic attack. Draco using the sound of Harry’s thumping heartbeat to calm himself down.

 

Now, they were talking, Draco with his back pressed against the wooden door and Harry kneeling in front of him, holding his hands and pleading with him.

 

And Draco was stunned, he was shocked and it seemed time froze. _Someone wanted him?_ Someone out there wanted to talk with him? To do simple things like listen to him ramble about Greek Gods and fantasy stories. To do things like get coffee or tea with him at his favorite cafe. To do silly things he didn’t particularly enjoy but decided to participate in because his friend really enjoyed it.

_There was someone?_

 

“You mean...You do want to be friends with me? But _why?_ I-I’m not-?” Draco cut off Harry’s rambling with a soft whisper. Draco looked up, fearing pity or disgust in those emerald eyes but all he saw were desperate tears.

 

Harry sobbed and crushed the smaller blond in his arms. Draco stiffed, not used to physical affection, or touch in general. When Harry pulled away, he looked the blond in the eyes, the silver filled with confusion and tiniest sliver of reluctant hope, while the green were filled with desperate determination.

 

“Draco, I will **never** let you go again. You’re stuck with me for the _rest_ of your life, whether you like it or not. You’ll **never** be alone again.”

 

Draco stared back at Harry. _Could it be?_ Could it be that he was wrong all along? Maybe he wasn’t doomed to live life alone, but he could only find out one way.

 

Draco let Harry pull him up, guiding him out to the hallway of the empty school. Draco looked up at the taller boy, meeting his eyes willingly.  

 

For the first time since his mother’s passing, Draco _smiled_.

 

The world exploded in colour.

**~*(✿)*~**

 

_“We're staying together," he promised. "You're not getting away from me. Never again.”_

_― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena_

 

**~*(✿)*~**

* * *

 

 [Moodboard 2](https://drive.google.com/file/d/13pBScdAuyYJvPFspCrVRtci7IOhtsW7e/view?usp=sharing)

* * *

 

Follow Jess! [@shameless-bisexual](https://shameless-bisexual.tumblr.com/)  

And Me, Vixen, [@the-fifth-marauder101](https://the-fifth-marauder101.tumblr.com/)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I should do a part 2 with Harry's POV? Leave a comment and a Kudo, love y'all and thanks for reading!


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